


see the sin in your grin and the shape of your mouth

by fragilelittleteacup



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Aether Possession, Dark, Extremely Dubious Consent, Injury, Kidnapping, Love, M/M, Manipulation, Possession, Psychological Horror, Sexual Coercion, interrupting my scheduled fluff and smut to bring you some edgelord content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 16:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14265363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilelittleteacup/pseuds/fragilelittleteacup
Summary: The thing on top of him leaned down, moving like a serpent. There was oily blackness painted beneath Duke’s lowered eyelashes, obscuring his eyes and overflowing down his sharp cheeks.“Please, Duke,” Nathan begged, words slurring, “please stop, this isn't you."





	1. you grew and became like the devil himself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CookieDoughMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDoughMe/gifts).
  * Inspired by ["Please Don't."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14010591) by [CookieDoughMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDoughMe/pseuds/CookieDoughMe). 



> Fic and chapter titles taken from _Fuck U_ by Placebo. Take note of the warnings and tags. Give "Please Don't." by CookieDoughMe a read if you haven't already!   
>  Edit: I figure that this goes without saying, but this is a fictional context, and I in no way endorse non-consensual sexual encounters. I encourage you to follow [proper bdsm etiquette](http://bdsmwiki.info/Negotiation) if you're interested in power play/domination/any other kind of kinky sexual activity.

It had been Duke before him, hunched over the interview table, despair and fear tugging at the lines of his face and breaking Nathan’s heart. It had been Duke that cowered and flinched, hands clutching at his hair, pained gasps and stuttered words choked out from between clenched teeth. It had been Duke-  _not_  some shallow aether copy. And Nathan, who had loved Duke from the moment the older boy had carried him from the ski slope where he’d fallen and broken his arm, reached across the table to try and hold him together.

He should have known.

He should have looked a little closer, seen the tormented face of an honest man mutating and stretching into something monstrous, a tightly shut jaw pulsing with clenched muscle as the thing before him tried to suppress a gruesome, snarling grin. He should have realised that closed eyelids were masking the same swirling, oozing blackness that would drip thickly from Duke’s chest if anybody took the time to try and rip his heart out. He should have known that Duke's body didn’t bleed red any more, and that his childhood friend was long gone.

But he didn’t.

So he reached forward, grasping Duke’s shoulders.

Duke surged up off the seat he’d been previously chained to, fingers indenting bruises into Nathan’s arms– the world jolted backwards, and Nathan found himself curiously weightless for the longest moment, a blur of colour painted over what had been a stationary scene. He realised that he’d been thrown through the interrogation’s one-way window only when glass shattered behind him, only when shards sliced through the fabric of his t-shirt and cut an elaborate pattern of overlapping lines into the meat of his back. Like wire through plasticine. Then he hit the ground. White pain burst behind his eyes, physical sensation lighting his body on fire. He was screaming before he even knew what was happening, torso arched up off the floor, head tipped back, eyes unseeing as he was overtaken by something he’d never before experienced. His trouble was gone. He wasn't numb any more. He felt a weight settle on top of him, a mere whisper of contact in the midst of his agony, and when he realised there were knees on either side of his waist he tried to get up. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t even twitch. His brain couldn’t make sense of what was happening, bursting to the seams with acidic confusion, dissolving in the face of _pain pain burning pain don’t think about it don’t think about it you need to run you need to run you need to escape pain pain PAIN_

The thing on top of him leaned down, moving like a serpent. There was oily blackness painted beneath Duke’s lowered eyelashes, obscuring his eyes and overflowing down his sharp cheeks.

“Please, Duke,” Nathan begged, words slurring, “please stop, this isn't you."

_this isn’t you_

The monster moved closer still. A pair of cold lips pressed against Nathan's jaw in a vile kiss, dark hair spilling over his collarbone and about his head. Glass shifted below them, tinkling, and Nathan could feel _everything._ He was being cut apart, pressed into knives by Duke’s stolen body.

_run run run you need to run you need to RUN_

He nothing more than prey. He was a frail rabbit, worn thin, limp beneath the jaws of a wolf, surrendering with full knowledge of what would come next. A canine jaw unhinging and closing around his fragile neck like the metal points of a bear trap. 

Nathan Wuornos was going to die.

 

 


	2. there's no light in your eyes and your brain is too slow

Nathan did not die.

When he woke up, he was confused. The room was peaceful and quiet, flowery decor and childlike ornaments filling the space with disturbing innocence. He sat up, mattress soft and pillowy beneath him. His back was healed. Birds chirped distantly through the windows. He could still feel touch, but didn’t have time to dwell on that absurdity.

Duke walked in.

Except it wasn’t Duke. Of course. But here, in the warm light of a quiet room, Nathan wished it could be him. He was so beautiful. His hair was untied and wavy past his shoulders, hips moving evenly as he strode into whoever’s bedroom this was, jeans clinging to the shape of him. Nathan wished he could pretend that the violence at the police station had just been a mad dream, and he almost did… But he knew it was a trick. _All_ of this was a trick. Even the concerned crease between Duke’s eyebrows was a lie, because Nathan could _see_ that there was nothing behind those eyes. Duke was a blank space, a barely-constructed ruse, a monster wearing a skinsuit.

Nathan wanted to believe the lie so badly.

He wanted to believe his friend was still alive.

_he’s not real he’s not real he’s gone he’s gone he’s gone and you have to let him go or you’ll die you’ll die you’ll DIE HERE_

“Where am I,” Nathan managed to ask. The sound of his voice snapped him out of wanting to try and save Duke, and he realised that he needed to save himself. The war between fight and flight kicked off inside him like a drug entering his bloodstream, soaking his heart in chemicals, pumping poison through every limb of his body. He began to hyperventilate, the sunlight streaming through the windows too bright to stand, panic gripping his lungs like a closed fist. Duke watched him with an vague curiosity, like he could barely be bothered to try harder, and soon enough the facade of concern melted from his face. He smiled.

_oh fuck. oh fuck._

Nathan inched away, scrabbling for purchase, flailing for some kind of weapon he could use to defend himself. There was nothing.

_he’s hungry he’s HUNGRY_

In one smooth, unnaturally fast step, Duke seemed to cross the whole room. He jumped onto the bed, and the next thing Nathan knew he was pinned in place as Duke straddled him, hands cupping his face.

_no, no-_

Duke jerked his face back when Nathan tried to pull away.

_let me go, let me go-_

“Shh, shh.” Duke whispered, “Shh, Nate.”

“Don’t-” Nathan choked, “Don’t call me-”

“It’s me, Nate. It’s Duke. You know me. You _know_ me.” Duke breathed the words against his cheek, ducking his face down, kissing the rabid pulse that hummed against Nathan’s skin. Pressing the silky heat of his tongue down like a sickening brand. Nathan squirmed where he was trapped, tears burning his vision, trying not to inhale. His face was against Duke’s shoulder, the fabric of his t-shirt soft, and the smell of Duke was intimately familiar to Nathan in a way he hadn’t appreciated before. He’d been trying so hard to save his friend, and now Duke was lost forever to _whatever it was_ that was touching Nathan like this.

He started to cry.

"It's okay, it's okay," the monster crooned lovingly, "I'm here, shh..."

“You’re not him,” Nathan protested weakly, trying to keep his voice steady. In an act of defiance– the last option that was available to him– he went still, body locking up into a terrified freeze. “You’re not him, you’re-”

That was all he managed to get out before Duke was kissing him. His brain short-circuited, the realisation that this was _actually happening_ making a sob bubble up from the depths of his throat, the broken blip of voice cried out against Duke’s lips. Duke pressed him harder against the bed’s wooden headboard, fingers digging cruelly into trembling shoulders, and Nathan didn’t even have it in him to try and fight. He wondered if Audrey would find him, and he realised that he didn’t want her to. She couldn’t see him like this. Being touched this way.

Duke’s imposter ground his hips forward slowly, leaning into Nathan like his body was a weapon. And it was.

 _please don’t,_ Nathan pleaded silently. Long fingers crept down his neck, tracing skin as if Duke longed to tear through sinew and flesh to find the bone underneath. Nathan sobbed again, and Duke’s hand moved lower still.

_please stop_

Duke undid Nathan’s pants. Dipped his hand inside.

_no, no, no-_

“Stop it, Duke, please-”

“You’re right,” Duke breathed, “I’m not him.”

Nathan tried not to gag at the sensation of skin against his cock, how sick he felt at the contact. Duke kissed him.

“Don’t-”

“I’m not Duke. But I could be.”

“Stop it-”

“He’d never give you this.”

The statement hit Nathan so hard that he couldn’t even find words with which to respond. A deadening grip of horror clenched at his gut, overwhelming him with an inescapable sense of hopelessness. Fingers ran through his hair with disturbing tenderness, and lips moved against Nathan’s as the monster murmured cloying, honeyed words, the pitch of his voice deeper and steadier than Duke’s had ever been.

“I can do things to you that he’d never do. I can pretend for you, Nate. Would you like that?”

Nathan shook his head.

“Do you want me to be him? To tell you that I love you?”

Nathan felt his breath hitch, felt himself shake, tremors punching through his body. He was gasping for air, dizzy with panic and confusion. Duke moved his hand slowly, patiently, syrupy promises curling free from his tongue and lacing themselves through Nathan’s addled brain. He jerked Nathan off like it was an act of mutual desire and not a violation. Nathan shivered and moaned, lashes drowned in tears now, face wet. All he’d wanted was to save his oldest friend, and now he was being forced to endure this. He opened his mouth to beg for it to stop, again, but the action did little more than deepen the kisses Duke was forcing him to take, their mouths slotting together tighter. He made frightened, plaintive noises that he’d never imagined would be forced from his throat.

“Nathan,” Duke breathed, “I love you.”

_no stop it stop it you don’t love me he doesn’t love me he never did oh god oh god don’t touch me please never stop_

Duke kissed him again. Tender, this time. Soft. It would have been so affectionate had it not been designed to deliberately hurt. And it did hurt.

“Shh. Shh. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“Please don’t-”

“Give in, Nate. Let me touch you.”

“Stop it!”

But Nathan could feel his hips jerking upward into the grip of Duke’s palm, and he could sense his resolve crumbling, leaving him hollow inside in a way that would not go away for a very, very long time. The demon moved against him, feral and eager, teeth tugging at Nathan’s lips. And when Nathan’s body fell into a pliant, helpless slump, he was overtaken by a different kind of numbness than just physical. Nathan didn’t know what to do.

So he just did what he was told.

 

 


End file.
